


Gordian Knot

by Tasha Y (ProwlingThunder)



Series: The Everlasting List of Shenanigans [172]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassination Victims, Assassins, Branding, Broken Assassins Guilds, Burn Tattoos, Court Assassins, Court Politics, Gen, Kidnap Victims, Loyalty is Love, Magic Seals, magic tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7699135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/Tasha%20Y
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt!fic.</p><p>The assassin looked to their partner. “I’m going on a mission, and I need you to stop me at all costs.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gordian Knot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EgoDominusTuus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/gifts).



> Prompt!fic. Prompt was: The assassin looked to their partner. “I’m going on a mission, and I need you to stop me at all costs.”

_The assassin looked to their partner. “I’m going on a mission, and I need you to stop me at all costs.” Why me, the partner wondered, and asked as much. "Why, love, because you're the only one I trust."_

 

 

It was a tale as old as time, assassins in the throne room. A dance Olivia knew well, too; watching her partner's back, because Ricardo didn't usually watch his own and had a dubious tendency to get himself into a pinch. But Olivia would trust him with her life, and _did,_ on more than one occasion. She was the one who had vouched for him; her word to the king, her life on the line. It was desperately important that he not screw up, and if he did, she, not he, would be the one for public execution.

Partly because Ricardo would be dead. But that's what sponsoring was. A risk, a trust in his belief and his character.

For anyone else, Olivia wouldn't have done it. But they had known each other as children. They had been two of the precious few to survive the Gordian Nest had been torn apart, two teenage assassins just shy of their mastery, two of a dozen. None of Amarn's forces believed a girl could be an assassin, so Ricardo had been forced to flee and leave her behind if he wanted to live-- Olivia had insisted on it-- but Amarn's soldiers had taken her in and treated her kindly. She had spent her time mending soldier's garments, earning her keep, and she had managed to keep her sunset practices well hidden until one day the company commander had caught her sneaking out to run through her forms.

Yes, she had been taught to fight, she told him. All of them had, everyone the Gordian had taken in. Knives in the dark, daggers in silk. The littlest babes were going to be, and the toddlers they had found already knew where to put the pointy end. The mothers the Amarn solders had let go were full-fledged and full-blooded, some of them born and bred for the Gordian. The fathers, brothers, sons they had killed; not even half of the vipers.

Olivia had earned her way up through the ranks from prisoner to trusted court guardian with careful diligence. Most-- many-- thought her a simple court servant. They didn't, and couldn't, know the truth of the snake that slunk in their midsts, and Olivia would be cross to remind them without cause.

In a matter of two years, Ricardo came back to her. Somewhat haggard for the years, which had been less kind to him, as they were wont to someone with the Gordian Knot emblazoned upon their skin. Olivia had vouched for him, to the city guard, to the castle guard, to the king.

 _I give you my word,_ she had said, and she had meant it. She had pledged in front of guard and king and Ricardo himself that if it were a trick, she would kill him herself and bow her own head for the blade. But it was not a trick, she said, for she knew and trusted him with her life. And thus Ricardo was brought in, and had so remained for the last two years.

Last month there had been a break-in into the castle, and Ricardo had gone missing. The prince was safe, and the attackers-- or at least some of them-- lay dead in pools of blood. The prince hadn't been sure what had happened, if they had taken him or he had chased them, but it didn't matter. What mattered was Ricardo was gone. And remained that way, until last night, when he had stolen away into her room.

 _Olivia,_ he'd whispered in the darkness, fingers held tight around her wrist to prevent the completion of the stabbing she had intended to grant him. _Olivia, I'm sorry. I'm going on a mission._

He hadn't had a lot of time to explain, and he couldn't tell her what it was he had to do. He was expected back, and he was testing the limits already. He had made her promise to do whatever it took, and then they'd sealed it with a hug and a prayer.

_Come back. I can't. Do it anyway. Okay._

_Okay._

Which brought her to this morning, the Yorian diplomatic party, Ricardo in chains-- _not locked,_ Olivia knew immediately, not locked, barely held on by sheer force of will, they were _Gordian_ and the only knot that could hold them was their own, no locks could bar them-- in the center of the group like a leashed dog.

He glanced up beneath his bangs, grown long in the month of missing, and she watched his gaze slide from her and passed King Brigod to Prince Ymir, who had held Ricardo's heart since the moment he had laid eyes on him. She could see the next few minutes in a fraction of a section, by the anguish in his eyes, and knew exactly what had happened, what the Yorians had done, what she had to do.

Olivia stepped forward to offer their guests wine at the behest of their hosts, her king, a dagger wrapped in silk between her fingers.

_Sink the blade into the heart of the knot, slice it clean; it was gossamer, magic woven in a shape burnt into skin, their source of life and death._

 

_"You're the one I trust the most."_


End file.
